Cold
by The Silver Feathered Raven
Summary: There are a lot of downsides to being part snake, especially when the nights are too cold and your companion is too warm. GreedxMartel


A/N: Well, finally figured out how to get something up. The document manager has decided that it doesn't like me uploading things anymore. So, I did everything through copying and pasting into an exported file from one of my other stories. Ick.

Anyway, I decided I should probably post something new. So, I dug through some of my writing from a little while back and pulled this out, as one of the things that I think turned out better. It's a highly unlikely situation, but...it was fun to write. This would be set shortly after the whole fifth laboratory part of the anime...

Anyway, enjoy. As always, constructive critisism is welcomed, as well as any spelling/grammar errors that you can find.

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**Cold**

by

The Silver Feathered Raven

"You're cold," Greed remarked, watching Martel's shivering form.

"Not so cold that I need you touching me," she spat right back, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Her skin was cold, and even the warmth from the fire wasn't doing much for her. "I want you to stay over _there_."

"Don't trust me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Not with something like this. I've seen how you latch onto women."

"Ouch." Greed put a hand to his chest, as though he was in pain. "That hurt. Deeply."

Martel sighed, stretching her hands out toward the fire. She really was cold, far too cold, but she would be able to stand it. After all, she'd been in situations far worse than this. Far colder ones, too.

_Really. And were these cold times before or after you were spliced together with a reptile?_

Martel ignored the voice of reason in the back of her head, because there wasn't much she could do differently at the moment. Their fire was too small, she didn't have any extra clothing, and there was no way that she was curling up next to any member of the male species who were currently with her. If Dorchet or Loa were here, then maybe, but Kimblee or Greed were very much out of the question. Luckily for her, Kimblee had stumbled off somewhere—if she had any luck at all, he would fall into some very deep hole and die—and so she was left alone with Greed, which might actually be far, far worse than being stuck with both of the men.

"You're going to freeze." Greed's voice cut into her thoughts, and she realized, with a start, that her reaction time was slowing. It took her a few moments to realize what he had said, and a few more for her to figure out what she was supposed to say to it.

"Maybe." She pulled her legs close to her chest, trying to keep in as much body heat as possible. Even her long sleeved clothing wasn't keeping her warm, and as she let out a breath the air turned white before her.

_Too damn cold. You're not going to be able to keep going._

And falling asleep wasn't an option. She probably wouldn't wake up. Damn snake blood in her; she wished that she was simply human.

"That's not a good answer, Martel." Greed looked entirely too serious for her to comprehend at the moment, the red light from the fire playing along his harsh features and casting dark shadows across his face. He looked rather...feral, she decided, sitting there in the firelight, crouched over with his arms hanging before him. "Don't be a fucking idiot. I don't get what you're so afraid of."

_Kimblee? You? Pain?_ Her thoughts were rather jumbled, but she still knew all of her reasons for _not_ wanting him to touch her. Because Kimblee would probably see it as some sort of victory for himself or something; she didn't really understand Kimblee's reasoning. Because Greed had a million other women, and she didn't want to be the million and first. Because she really, really _wanted_ Greed to touch her, but she wasn't going to say that and since he didn't understand her feelings she would get hurt. And she wasn't particularly fond of pain.

"I'm not afraid," she mumbled, shivering violently. Greed sighed heavily, the air before him misting as the heat of his breath hit the cold, and then he rose from his seat. "What--"

"Shut up Martel," he said harshly, walking swiftly to her, plunking himself down on the hard earth and pulling her into his arms. "You're too valuable to me to lose to something stupid like a really fucking cold night in the forest."

She wanted to protest in some manner, but found that it really was quite nice. His skin seemed abnormally warm against hers; she wasn't sure if it was because he had been sitting so close to the fire, her own slight embarrassment, or just that he was naturally warm, but at every contact point between them it was like something was burning her. Only, it wasn't a bad feeling. His arms were bare, strong, and they were wrapped around her, one around her waist and one around her shoulders, holding her so that her back was against his chest.

"See?" he said, and she thought that she heard laughter in his voice. "You're not dying."

That warmth was simply addictive, she decided a moment later, twisting herself in his arms so that her head was buried against the smooth skin of his torso. That damn white fur that Dorchet teased him about so much was tickling her forehead, but it was warm, and his arms were warm, and the fire at her back was warm. She brought her arms up before her, sliding them along his chest and burying them in the white fur.

Greed stilled for a moment as she shifted in his arms, then allowed himself to smile. "Much better, isn't it?"

"Very nice," she said softly, and felt her eyes close. She jerked them open almost instantly, because she was still very, very cold, and she was still afraid that falling asleep would mean shutting down entirely. "You're really warm. Why is that?"

She felt him shrug, the muscles in his arms and abdomen bunching and relaxing. "Don't know. Probably another side effect of not being human."

"Like your magical ability to never get a hangover? Why'd you get all the good things?" It really wasn't fair, she decided, because she had been stuck with this damned habit of getting so sluggish when it was cold out.

"Luck." His arms tightened around her a bit. "We probably should have packed some blankets or something."

Martel sighed heavily, finding herself very drowsy. "Didn't expect us to get stuck out here. And we had to travel light. Don't...remember why, though."

Greed felt her sag against him, and realized that she was probably dead tired. "Hey, you gonna fall asleep there, Martel?"

"Shouldn't," came the muffled answer, and Martel's eyes closed again. Greed shifted his weight, slowly lowering them both to the ground. "Wh--"

"Shhh." He ran a hand over her hair and down her back, and felt her shiver against him. "Just sleep. I'm gonna need you tomorrow, so I don't want you dead on your feet."

"'kay." She curled up tightly against him, so that their entire lengths were pressed together. She still felt very cold to him, but she was slowly warming, and he had to admit that it felt very nice to hold her. He waited while her breathing evened out, and then he let his arms relax ever so slightly.

Everything else be damned; he _liked_ this. He _wanted_ this. And he was Greed, and he _always_ got what he wanted.


End file.
